Night Sky
by Morgothrond
Summary: Please, all comments welcomed.  Humanity faced extinction at the hands of the Firstfruits, the re-born. Now, the remaining humans are divided and struggle to gain a place among the stars.


**Night Sky**

**I**

For a whole century now the darkness between moon and earth have been defeated; replaced with the reflections of the sun on metal and chrome, and the constant traffic lights of endless carriers, freighters, and other vessels lining up to pass on Earth's outer station stationed on its faithful moon. Only on some rare occasions incoming earthbound traffic was diverted to check points on Venus or Mars. This was such an occasion, and the reason: an enormous Raven Starfleet carrier stationed just off the moon.

The carrier hummed and vibrated in the emptiness of space, its massive engines plain visible from viewports on Luna station, rivalling with the brightness of the sun. Its endless stations of comms arrays, cannon emplacements and observation decks made the Luna base small by comparison. The gleaming white metal of the ship hummed and vibrated in the engine's final phase to enter warp. The vibrations stirred moon dust all around the lunar station.

There is no turning back now. He tied to keep his steps on the command deck sure and strong despite the trembling on the metal surface. He kept walking towards the front of the bridge; he could see Earth on the view screen and its moon on every window panel as he approached the from rows of seats and control stations where at least 15 other flight officials prepared the jump drive. "All systems ready commander", "All channels open sir", "Ready to disengage docking clams Cap'n", "Course laid in sir", he could hear these voices echoing each other with pre launch procedures all over the command deck. And he could sense in the middle of it all, a stoic, tranquil, white haired man staring at the viewport, receiving all the information, but not letting out any sound or motion. He could see the man as he approached the front of the bridge. He has never been on the bridge of a cruiser before and he found it hard not to look as a rookie as he approached the captain of the vessel.

The man turned his head towards him. The bridge went instantly silent, as the at least fifteen other crewmembers expected the words of their captain as soon as he moved a muscle. "Are the prisoners secure Lt. Riley?" With a fluid motion, he saluted the captain and confirmed his question. He could not find it in himself to look the man straight in the eye, and that made him feel small and inadequate. Gathering courage, he spoke again. "Aye sir, all thirteen hundred souls secure". "Very well Lt. return to your station and inform your men that the jump to Tartarus is imminent."

He retracted his steps with strong strides. It was the first time he talked to one of the senior officers in his brigade; no, not just only a senior officer this one, but also a senior Crovite. Rumours around the ship had the captain at three hundred years now. He could not say for sure by looking at the man if this was true, and he never liked to pay heed to rumours, but something in those lavender slightly glowing eyes put him off. As a norm, the Crovos people had no pupils and metallic orbs for eyes; dull, metallic orbs that some how terrified earthlings, or at least the few he had come in close contact with. Without a word, he stepped outside the bridge and in to the turbolift that would take him some fifty levels below, to the cell levels.

II

"They were loaded like cattle in to the slaughterhouse. Not a single one of us said or did anything. The world is theirs. It has always been theirs." The girl thought while kneeling in the dark. "When did it come to this...?"

The characteristic hiss of air pressure changing snapped her back in to attention; the heavy security airlock doors were opening. Two pair of heavy boots were walking down the aisle towards her. She kneeled in the darkened chamber, unmoving, frozen not in terror but in cold blooded anticipation. The lights on the small chamber turned on automatically at sensing the genetic trace of the men entering. "No, these are not men, as much as they look like us". She shifted her position behind a security desk filled with panels and controls for the prison block that spanned three levels below of the gargantuan carrier.

The security checkpoint chamber was small by the standards of the rest of the ship. A massive window portal displayed a somewhat disappointing view of jet exhausts and lights of the endless traffic lane trying to approach ear, disappointing to all except true spacers that know an undeniable truth: you cannot longer see stars so close to a planet's orbit as easily as by looking out a window. Lt. Riley turned the corner from the turbolift aisle and in to the chamber; a few steps put him next to the small space where the security desk was. He was followed by Sgt. Garth. Riley glanced over his shoulder at Sgt. Garth; These names were ridiculously out of Crovite regularity, but as a law enforcement body, it was necessary to adopt a more human name, humans being the predominant scourge on the galaxy. Still, riley missed his Crovite ascendance: The Crovos were by no means a petty race. Regal and elegant, their black, greyish, or purplish eyes without pupils marked them as mysterious beings.

"Sgt. Garth, would you be so kind as to turn off the security protocol to access the lower levels", said Riley as he turned his gaze on the enormous window that covered the entire right hand wall of the small chamber. "I need to run a final inspection before the..." he was cut off by a ghostly reflection on the view port: the ghostly image of a lithe, muscular girl and the impossible thing she was about to do. Riley had barely time to turn and see the right hand of the girl as it rose towards the neck of Sgt. Garth, which would be perfectly alright any other time and place. But right there and then it was the least and most terrible thing Riley could have never thought it would happen to him. The girl was, for starters, clearly a human, not Crovite, and furthermore, her jet black hair and hazel eyes marked her as a member of the Severed Nations, a human race which happens to be the same race as thirteen hundred souls trapped in the bowels of the Black Raven, the cruiser he was in.

He started for his DL-44 blaster pistol just as the girl flashed a vicious looking serrated knife; she then took Sgt Garth by the hairs on the back of his head and pulled hard; looking up and not knowing what was about to begin, Sgt. Garth felt the serrated edge of the girl's knife ripping flesh and tissue, felt the warm blood drenching his chest in a second and for a moment he wondered at the tingling sensation on his legs and arms, wondered at not seeing a spray of blood as he would have expected, but a silent, bountiful gush cascading all over his chest, legs and drenching his boots; then he just felt his knees buckle as darkness took him. Crovite blood was also a deep glorious dark red.

The girl screamed as blood emanated from the Crovite's neck. She fixed her eyes on the other alien that came in to the chamber and pounced on him as he levelled his blaster pistol. She won the hand by being the fastest. With a fluid motion, she slapped the blaster out of his hand and aimed for the kill; As she was about to dig her serrated blade in to his chest, something happened she neither expected nor felt before; both their bodies lurched and trembled while they struggled, both their existences collapsed on to themselves; they both slammed against the bulkhead behind her, right next to the door that led to the prison levels below.

Black Raven, the massive cruiser star ship had finished its countdown and engaged its warp jump in to a distant part of the galaxy...

III

The sky is blue that day. "Good thing I landed this charter job through the hills on such a day", he thinks as he shifts in to a higher gear; It is a good day. It could be said that olden times were best, but he would not say that. He has never known good times, no good old days for him, each and every single time of his long years have been a struggle, a death race or a fight for survival. Childhood on earth used to be all fond memories. Not anymore. Not for at least four hundred years. When the world ended and the dark ones came.

The world as it was known ended.

The firstfruits were reborn.

The sky is blue today, that is good. the vehicle he drives bounces and slides on the uneven dirt; enormous wheels spin hell bent on getting through the surface of the rolling hills and lightly forested area of the southern parts of Thessalonica. He drives without paying too much attention to his surroundings. Some humans would consider these parts of Earth even beautiful, so long as you keep away of the elder cities and stick to cruising the yellowish grass, the red dirt, or stroll under the shadow of green trees. Still, he does not mind, but the blue, the blue of the sky is good.

The vehicle he drives is a monster of a truck, several axles and eight wheels. He is not riding alone. There is a humanoid sitting next to him; but he does his best to ignore his presence, because, well... because next to him to him on the open cockpit vehicle sits one called Lt. Riley; an alien, a damned Crovite, The Law. He has lived enough to have seen his share of the galactic law enforcers known as Raven. Mostly aiding the Federation of United Nations on earth but god knows why; they could have just as easily decide to throw their lot in with the Severed Nations.

He drives. He ignores his Raven co pilot, he just wants to get there as soon as possible. Being in the open during the day was a risk, awe inspiring though the day might be; but now the day was fading, and the blue of the sky deepening, darkening, growing even more beautiful, in his opinion. He is fifty years old and he has ever known this life; The life on earth reborn. A life in which a federation of nations, The Feredarion, represents earth amongst the myriad of races, species and filth of the galaxy at large. this United Federation of human nations does not comprise the whole of the human species; There is the Severed Nations, humans that were left resenting, left behind to die, denied their human birthright, made outcast. One could never know where or when the terrorist countries of the Severed Nations would attack a city, destroy a convoy, bomb a peaceful colony; or at least that was what it was commonly said on the Federation controlled cities.

But those are not the complete human kind, are they? No, there was also Them: The whispers, The shadows, The lurkers in the night called The Firstfruits by fanatics of old beliefs. There were few of them now, about to be eradicated by both Federation and Severed Nation forces; but still they roamed and haunted the alleys and dark places of some olden abandoned cities. Like the one just a few kilometres from where they were right now: Toulouse.

He shifts uncomfortably on his seat as he glances on the direction of the city, "You know, Lt. Riley, this is not very safe" He says without much interest in actually engaging in conversation with the alien. "That city up there, can you see the towers and buildings?". Lt. Riley turns his metallic orbs he calls eyes towards him, "Yes Mr. Juventus, I can see it," The Crovite replies while staring and unnerving him, "I also know its called Toulouse and I could tell you about four hundred years of its history and that of these parts you now call Thessalonica" His gray eyes deprived of pupils do not quit, he stares as if to make madmen of all humans, starting with him, and continues, "We will be safe from The things called Firstfruits for a few more hours; do not worry my friend, I will protect you in any eventuality, for you are now under the protection of Raven by order of the Federation of United Nations. Nothing will come to harm us." He adds with a little smile on the corner of his lips.

He stares back at the alien's face. The resemblance to humans was uncanny. What could possibly had come about in the universe for something like two species millions of light years apart evolve to basically the same anthropomorphic appearance? He had discussed this at length with Charles, back at the Federation head quarters in Thessalia. But he did not dwell too much on it. The answers frightened him something fierce. So He continues to drive in silence and time seems to hang, to slow and float about him as the sun starts to acquire a golden tint.

He turns the wheel on his all terrain vehicle to avoid a segment of the dirt road that had been flooded, he is sure it could pass trough puddles without effort; but getting dark, and not sure of the depth counts as an unnecessary risk in his book, and he always kept that book open when on a job. He does not slow down, but applies pressure on the pedal instead. They round a yellow grass hill that is starting to turn golden in the setting sun as they drive by; The vehicle does not slow down its frantic race, and at the bend in the road just after the golden hill, they now see the lights and buildings of their destination: Thessalia, the largest Federation city on these parts. His job is about to be concluded. The deal was to take the alien from a northern Federation landing site and in to the city's Federation building, receive some form of package in return to take back north to Stuttgart's Federation facilities.

The city comes closer. Its towers loom. Its lights flood the surrounding hills and forests. He takes the vehicle off the dirt road and in to the pavement of the City's main street. A walled city, like most of them are in the world today. He had seen pictures of those cities mankind used to have, four maybe five hundred years before. Not the same. He had not known good old times. He drives through city blocks laden with tall spires of buildings creating canyons of concrete and steel; and in those canyons and through them people lazed about in apparent tranquillity. Yes, the world that the Federation had created after the chaos of the old world seemed best, just seems best; safe from the dark ones, safe from the Severed Nations.

He veers off the main street and navigates through neon lighted streets. After a few turns and twists, they arrive at a tall building with glass panels on all sides and on all floors. The eagle symbol of the federation adorns the entrance in gleaming silver metal just above the doorway in to the main lobby. Just above the metal eagle, and also in gleaming silver letters, the word VALOR can be read. A word that strikes not only fear but also hate, respect, honour and courage on the people of earth, depending on where you are standing when you see it. Valor, the military arm of the Federation. Worthless pieces of shit in his opinion. But he is not here to make opinions, but to escort this alien in to tht Valor building and specifically in to the offices of one LTG. Morris.

They walk down the silvery aisle in to the main lobby. The turbolift takes them to one of the highest floors. He remains silent when they exit the lift and walks without a word trough the destination aisle until they are in front of the office of this Lieutenant General Morris. Riley glances at him before entering the office, "Mr. Juventus, if I might say so, I appreciate your transportation service and I can see you are a man of both honour and courage, some of the most desirable characteristics found in earthlings." He smiles under those metal orbs of eyes. " I meant to ask you before, while on the road, but did not find the gall." Juventus shifts his body and feet under the uncomfortable stare of Lt. Riley, "but How does my Earthspeak sound to you?". The Crovite continues and smiles apparently in earnest.

He does not respond. He looks down and up the aisle they are in, it is empty. He tries to restrain his arms, but it is in vain. With a forceful shove, he takes both his arms up and grasps the Crovite's head with all his strength. His arms bulge from tensed muscles, He stares right in to those gray eyes. "Listen, _Lt. Riley_, if that is even your name, we are about to be done here, and I'll be one happy maggot once I'm rid of you. But you want to know how your _Earthspeak_ sounds?" He takes both his thumbs and starts applying pressure on the alien's eye sockets. He does not know why he is so enraged, or perhaps he does, having learned the purpose of the Ravens visit on earth's orbit one or two nights ago, just before he landed the charter job.

He knows the Crovite can easily snap his spine in two with his bare hands, rumours said they could lift a transport vehicle in combat, and some have been seen leaping up to second or third stories. He does not care. Severed Nations or not, those were humans they were about to take on board an alien ship in to god knows what destination. "It sounds like the wailings of an unnatural space creature trying to smile from behind a flesh mask." He regains control and lets go of the Crovite's head. He walks down the aisle, back towards the turbolift without looking over his shoulder. The Crovite massages his head and eyes in soft movements of his hand as he watches him go back down the hallway.

He does not care about the job anymore. Payment be damned, he would request a funds transfer later on. He also does not care about the package to be transported back north; next assignment be double damned, He thinks as he enters the turbolift. He takes a deep and long look in to the city around him through the glass walls of the lift as it slides down level after level. The city shines, a luminous living entity. And now, suddenly, after fifty years, to him, Mikael Juventus, former member of Valor, chief of operations of the Red-eye transport Co. The city also resembles a huge metal monster.

It is late.. He sits on a bar stool in the darkest joint he could find. He has to wait until morning comes to drive back north. The music is a loud and horrible electronic garble. He would never understand music not performed by acoustic instruments. He glances up again. It is late. Perhaps too late. But no, after a long drink, he glances upward again, and through a clear glass ceiling.. there it is. IT is not too late, looking upwards he can see an enormous space shuttle bearing the symbol of the Raven. A few kids on a booth behind him clap and cheer as they too look up. "Look, a Raven craft", they say as if they were seeing a chariot of a god. He tries his best not to punch those kids in the face. After what he has done that night, that would be an easy job.

After leaving the Federation building he had roamed the streets for some time. Night had come and still he had been roaming aimlessly at first, but then, slowly and unconsciously his steps had taken him to where he knew was the Federation prison. As a former officer in Valor, he had known when and how to approach the facility. Then he had found them. The prisoners. Her.

There, everything had begun.

He glances up and sighs. "Good luck girl". He says in a hushed tone as he gets up and transfers credit to the bartender for his drinks. He stumbles towards the door, but his mind is racing with the possibilities and enhanced by alcohol. He leaves the bar and exits out in to the night sky, where the stars are no longer identifiable from orbiting ships and carriers. But that particular night the stars were shining in all their glory. Drunk, he continues to stare at the night sky, waiting to double check if he is actually seeing stars or stationary ships.

They are stats.

No ships in orbit that night, but one. A massive Raven carrier up there somewhere in the night sky.

The same night sky to where a thousand human spils were being taken off world right now.

IV

Folded space. The feel of moving yet being completely still. A deep stasis to contemplate the eternity that lies in the dark spaces between the stars. Every ship that moves outside of its own solar system carries one of the wonders of the galaxy: The warp Drive engine. It allows beings from across the galaxy interstellar travel. The darkness between inhabited systems had been eliminated with the coming of this hyperdrive technology. But it did not come alone. With it came the realization that awareness on beings across the galaxy was not meant to inhabited warped space, folded reality. Awareness continues its eternal consciousness. And in that light, the Hyperspace damper came to be.

The Black Raven, being one of the most massive carriers in the Raven arsenal, exuded enormous amounts of energy in both its warp engine and hyperspace damper. Every station, every bunk bed quarters was ensured to protect the minds of its crew. But not hallways or checkpoints.

Her serrated blade cut his uniform. Time started to slow down then. He found he had time enough to look up in to her face. In to her eyes. Hazel pupils that stared at him from across a gulf of empty space and yet close enough to drawn in them. There was hate in those eyes. A stare full of anger and hate that condemned him for what seemed an eternity. He tried to look down again. He should be dead by now, with her serrated blade buried deep in to his chest. He swam in hazel deep waters towards light, up above. He escaped her gaze and looked down expecting to see his own flesh split open. The knife had not yet entered him. Its tip had just touched skin. A drop of deep red, almost burgundy blood burst out of his body. A small drop, barely visibly staining the very tip of her blade. "No," he thought, "Not like this." He looked over the shoulder of the girl in front of him to the floor behind her. There, he saw Sgt. Garth, his blood escaping him in slow, gravity defiant gushes that sloshed out of him towards the wall behind him and up its surface. some drips had managed to reach the ceiling.

At the dawn of the 21st century there were many religions on earth. Humankind was a mishmash o ideologies that pit them in confrontation among themselves. Zealot governments in all continents brought their armies with all their destructive might in to neighbor or far away countries in the name of a god, of freedom and justice. Every side claiming to possess these human faux ideals.

They would have destroyed themselves.

It was only after two hundred years of bloody conflicts in which the global united nations organization would be only a joke and a pitiful observant that the Firstfruits event spread its dark blotted filth across the face of the earth.

The reborns. One of those religions saw its coming in its sacred books. Saying that is Christ risen from the dead, and with him, those in his light become the firstfruits of them that slept and are now risen. The book prophetized that In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.

In the most sacred ancient texts of the powerful religion organization it was that their god uses the analogy of a people of ancient times called Israel and its agricultural harvests to illustrate important aspects of his plan of salvation—the "harvesting" of mankind, in a sense, in which the resurrection of the dead played a major role. Aspects of this plan are pictured by specific annual festivals and Holy Days, which in turn represent harvest times in ancient earthling tribes .


End file.
